The life of one grandmother

About the novel by Elena Katishonok

Elena Katishonok’s novel “Counterclockwise” was published in Boston in an unknown (it’s easy to guess that it was small) edition. And therefore practically inaccessible to the Russian reader. It is available in the Library of Congress (this is stated in the imprint), but I have strong doubts about the RSL (and other domestic book depositories). However, things are approximately the same with the novel “Once upon a time there was an old man and an old woman,” published not only overseas, but also by the St. Petersburg publishing house “Helikon Plus” (the circulation is not indicated, but it seems comparable to the Boston one, because in book stores , it seems, no one has met), which ended up on the latest Booker shortlist (which more than covers all the missteps, omissions and compromises of the corresponding jury) and received some (obviously insufficient) resonance. In fact, it was necessary to ring bells, blow trumpets and, tearing one’s throat, demand from whales, sharks, belugas and other large inhabitants of the book publishing aquarium: immediately release the family chronicle (saga) of Elena Katishonok! It didn't happen. And I have little faith in the effectiveness of my vote today. (For almost two decades of almost continuous pounding in the newspaper forge, I have well learned how much the opinion of an “influential” - and how! - criticism is worth: pennies without an altyn.) However, like a wolf at the moon, I continue to howl: someone publish it Somehow Katishonok!

And of course, both books. The second novel is no worse than the first, although it serves as a continuation and, to some extent, an addition. The narrative, having stepped into the second half of the damned 20th century, every now and then returns back and sheds new light on some events that happened during the lifetime of the old man Grigory and the old woman (mother) Matrona Ivanov. They lived, immigrants from the Don, who firmly held on to the old faith, by the sea, which, however, and in the clearest weather was not at all blue - by the Baltic Sea, they lived in a city that was never named by name, in which Riga can be recognized without any difficulty. Here, “in the first year of the new century,” the future inhumanity of which no one could imagine, the then eighteen-year-old old woman “on a cheerful Easter April” gave birth to a daughter, who was named Irina. “If my parents had known the meaning of the name, they would have marveled at their own foresight, which so accurately named the beginning of their peaceful life.” This is a quote from the first novel, where Irina, although given an important role in the slowly told story (especially towards the end), still remains the daughter of an old man and an old woman.

The second novel is hers. The eldest daughter of people in “peacetime,” who was given a life that was not at all in keeping with her bright name and equally bright spirit, and was not at all “peaceful.” There was a carefree and smiling life in the pre-war years, when Irina preferred his cousin Konon, who was not endowed with any special talents, to the brilliant, artistic and lightweight German (German was delusional about cinema and at first succeeded in this field, then burned out, and many years later suddenly gained the status of a national classics), except... nobility, spiritual height and the ability to love. There were girlfriends whom the centrifugal forces of the increasingly furious century carried to different directions of the world: a Jewish woman to Palestine, a German woman to Germany. There was family happiness. And then the century showed its teeth in earnest. How the war hit the Ivanov family is described in detail in the first novel. And the story of Konon, that, having overcome the fierce resistance of his wife (for the first time in their life they quarreled - and for the last), he sent her and their children to be evacuated, while he himself remained in the city and died in a concentration camp, also in “Once upon a time there lived an old man and an old woman.” " is presented. And about how Irina, grieving in the Russian wilderness, felt her husband leaving, too. Only there it was an episode (yes, important, yes, terrible - however, the war did not bring anything else to the old man, the old woman and their children, they were not such people) of a family saga that captured the “typical” twists of a brutal century. And here is the tragic culmination of a story about great love. That love that did not leave Irina even in old age.

She lived a very long life. I buried all my younger brothers and sister. She lost her daughter - quite alive, but who had cast aside ancient prejudices like conscience, compassion or love for family. The beginning of this story is given in the first novel, but its bitterest continuation - Irina's daughter Taika separates her mother from her daughter, her grandmother's granddaughter - is presented in the second novel. She eventually connected with her granddaughter and waited for her happiness. And before trouble: the novel begins with the grandmother’s journey to the hospital, where her Lelka lies in the intensive care unit. She begged her granddaughter, who loved her grandmother - Swallow - and lived her life until the very end. And that morning, when the seriously ill grandmother, who was spending the night with Lelka, suddenly stood up decisively and with frantic force (as she argued with her husband, who was sending her out of town) rushed to her home. “I saw him just now, Kolya,” she explained hastily, “he returned home, do you hear? And I’m here! And he doesn’t have the keys!!”

The communist betrayed by his neighbor returned (the purest Konon, who aspired to universal justice, was a member of this party in those years when the small country had not yet been swallowed up by the communist empire), the husband killed by the Nazis returned, Kolya returned, and whose graves are impossible to find (the forest surrounding the concentration camp was cut down, on the site a new one has been installed). Returned. “Kolya said that he would wait at home; he was going up the stairs, Ira saw , and during this time he had to run to meet him, hug him - and never part again!..

Three of them held her back <...> And the grandmother realized: she wouldn’t make it in time.

Bitter, helpless anger, a blazing blush, and then a quiet, hopeless cry - all this went to Olga <...> Kolya, the smell of pine trees and heather, which they loved so much, were left behind the door! - and the granddaughter sat next to her and said unnecessary words. You need to get dressed and comb your hair, drink tea, and then you and I will go together, you’ll see.

Late. Kolya won't come again. How can she not understand, Lord!”

Here the author breaks paragraphs with spaces. “No, this is not the end, but the beginning of the end, which I don’t want to talk about - and it’s very difficult to talk about.

You can put a book down without finishing it, but you can’t help but finish it.” Elena Katishonok finished her book.

“This is not death, no! Grandma didn't die - she came back, and that's why she smiles. Swallow, finally you are not in pain <...>

And I will not die, Swallow, I will never die. I will grow old and also become a grandmother <...>

And then I will return to you ."

Elena Katishonok finished her book. About grandma. About life. About love. It would be a shame if it remains unread.

Andrey NEMZER